Atypical Confession
by Firisu
Summary: Ichigo tries to admit his feelings for Rukia without making a complete fool out of himself. Yeah, right. Like that's going to happen. IchiRuki, one-shot.


**A/N: Last night, I randomly went on a LiveJournal community called ship_manifesto and checked up on the second Round 2 polls for their 'Survival of the Hottest 'Ship' tournament. And guess what? IchiRuki got knocked out by England/America from Hetalia: Axis Powers! 396 votes to 558. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. I was sure they'd make it through to the Finals. So I spent the rest of the night pissed off at the internet and moping in a corner. Then, somehow, I felt the need to write something and this is what came out.**

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**Atypical Confession**

Confessions are much harder than they seem. It could be seen as just saying three simple words but there's always much more to it than that.

First, there's the whole process of thinking of what to say, how to say it, when, where… That in itself can deter you from the actual task and you end up discarding the idea altogether. However, if you do complete that stage, you move on to panic mode where you continually question yourself, "Should I really be doing this?" You can imagine that this is usually where people convince themselves it's a lost cause and simply give up—not because the situation really is doomed to failure but because it's easier to leave things as they are.

Fortunately, Ichigo made it through those steps, and here he sat, waiting for Rukia to arrive so that he could carry out the final stage: declaring his feelings to the one he loved—oh God, that sounded so lame in his head. He'd left her a note in his closet, too embarrassed to ask in person, telling her to meet him at the local café three o'clock that Saturday afternoon.

He glanced restlessly at his watch, just like he had been doing repeatedly for the past half hour. She was late; very late.

"Ichigo!"

He looked up then to see Rukia coming through the smooth glass doors and panting as she hurried over to their table.

"Sorry," she said as she took her seat opposite Ichigo. "A Hollow showed up and—"

"I don't care about the damn Hollow," he snapped.

She blinked. "What did you say?"

He turned his scowl on her. "You heard me; I wanted you to be _here_. Thirty minutes ago."

Anger flared inside her and she slammed her palms down flat against the glass table, standing up from her seat without entirely realising. Ichigo mirrored her actions and now they both leaned across the table in blind fury, their faces a hair's breadth away from each other. They didn't take notice of the close proximity, though, as a screaming war ensued between the two.

"Why you, how dare you judge me; I was doing my job!"

"Maybe I'd like you to stop worrying about your _job_ for once and care about what I have to say!"

"Don't be so selfish, Ichigo! My life shouldn't have to revolve around you!"

"I never said it should! I just want you to give me the chance to speak once in a while!"

"You can speak to me whenever you want! When you need to talk, I'm here to listen, so I don't see why this stupid little meeting means so much to—"

"Damn it, Rukia! I invited you here to tell you that I love you!"

She froze. The anger drained from her face as she fell back into her seat. "What did you say?"

He, too, sat down in his chair again. Now ten times more aware of the people in the café staring at him and Rukia's peculiar interaction, he lowered his voice and looked down through the translucent table. "I said… I love you."

Silence. And then…

"I'm sorry; I couldn't quite hear you."

He looked up and saw a devilish grin creeping onto her face. She was totally messing with him—at a time like this!

He bit his lip and played along, speaking at normal decibels now. "I love you."

"Would you mind repeating that?"

Ichigo finally rolled his eyes, pushing his chair back to stand up straight. Rukia watched his actions with amusement, curious as to what he planned to do next. He walked around their table to stand before her. Disregarding everyone and everything else in the room, he shouted in a loud, sure voice, "I. Love. You. Got that? I love you, Kuchiki Rukia! I love—"

She'd stood from her seat and shut him up—not with a kick to the face though; with a kiss—before he could say any more. All the customers, either taking a sip of their drink or purchasing coffee at the counter, turned to stare at the very public display of affection.

Rukia didn't care. She reached up to weave her fingers through Ichigo's orange hair and pushed the back of his head closer to hers, forcing their lips together and allowing him to feed the rest of his confession silently into her mouth.

A fervent round of applause and cheering suddenly erupted all around them from the café's dear patrons but the couple didn't hear any of it. They were completely and utterly lost in their own little world.

As far as confessions go, Ichigo thinks he got a pretty good deal, even if it wasn't what he'd expected. Like they say, good things come in strange, strange packages.


End file.
